Flooded: scribbling(s) from an ark…

Flooded: scribbling(s) from an ark…

ship rope dock cargo
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

40:1
‘is this thing on? check, check, so this guy is gathering animals 2×2, stop me if you’ve heard this one, I’ll be here all month, try the unleavened bread’

40:2
this doesn’t seem so bad

40:3
I am starting to regret flipping a coin over crocodiles and unicorns… should have went with -rock -parchment -cutting tool…

40:5
note to self: lions and sea lions are not related, begrudgingly I had to admit the wife was right about sea horses and sea cows as well…

40:6
renovation note: moving hen house across the ark away from the fox hole

40:7
note to self: next time make more room for the porcupines

40:8
the llamas (well, specifically Lorenzo) spit at my wife, I think she saw me laugh, but I DID warn her about those darn things… and besides, it was hilarious…

40:9
I was doing roll call today and came across a couple of “duck-weasels”, sure, the placard says ‘platypus’ (whatever the hell that is), I swear sometimes I think god is just messing with me

40:10
man! hippos are hungry

40:10(b)
trying to dry laundry in almost never ending rain really sucks…

40:11
sheesh, of all the things I brought two of, I’m glad I only brought one wife…

40:12
sleeping in the sheep’s quarter’s tonight, note to self: put away diary where wife can not read it

40:14
is now a bad time to mention I might be slightly claustrophobic? I could sure use that water to wine trick right now…

40:15
I wish sushi had been invented… and I can’t even get a decent cigar in this joint…

40:16
Horses and elephants??… I really should have thought this out better from a maintenance perspective…

40:17
things must be getting to me, I had a dream about pandas riding zebras playing polo… and polo hasn’t even been invented yet…

40:18
I envy bears, they can sleep through anything

40:19
note to self: skunks do not like surprises

40:20
how did I miscount the rabbits? there has to be a dozen of them now… addendum: boa constrictor food problem solved

40:21
I came up with a song to pass the time: “100 bottles of shekar on the wall, 100 bottles of shekar, take one down, pass it around, 99 bottles of shekar on the wall”, something seems a little off, I’ll work on it…

40:22
geese and ducks are like in-laws… I’ll leave that up for individual interpretation… I love my in-laws, I really do, of course they were drowned with everyone else, hey, who am I to question god’s judgement (chuckle)…

40:23
I keep telling the pigeons to stay off the sloths but they can’t help themselves I guess, old habits die hard…

40:24
the wife is no longer amused by my weather forecasts…

40:25
I have to tell ya, those kangaroo pouches come in handy when doing repairs, no more trunnels rolling around the old deck, no sir!

40:26
skinks are not “snakes with jazz hands”… geez, some creatures are so persnickety… you make one off handed comment and skinks make a stink about it for days…

40:27
I really should have built a bowling alley on this thing… charades just don’t cut it anymore… and the kids memorized all the trivial pursuit questions (old testament edition (c) )

40:30
note to future people, do not make a movie where the world is all water, just trust me on this one

40:32
everyone’s a critic… why didn’t you build this? why didn’t you build that? what? like I went to school for this? sheesh, damn back boat captains… let’s see you build an ark with no union labor…

40:39
well, there goes that experiment, pigs can not fly, I guess I should try a raven or a dove or something, eh, maybe tomorrow, I don’t want to be late for date night, the wife is already steamed at me, something about the seat being up or whatever…

notes… just some random silliness at what Noah’s diary might look like, well… sort of…

Thoughts from the porch (post mini vacation edition)…

Thoughts from the porch (post mini vacation edition)…

nature sky clouds blue
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

(meant to post this last night, my bad)

I have been blogging (writing) about ‘unremarkable days’, how there is something to be found in them regardless of how ordinary they may seem, and surely those days outnumber the rest by a large margin, but today was one of those other days, the one where you can remove the “un” entirely, picture book clouds on perfect hand-picked blue print, the sun just quite hot enough as you teeter on the brink of sweat but the damn never breaks, and again, the clouds, not a one with ill intent or a portent to rain (not even a hint), just fluffy white dreams that steal your imagination with their shapes, the kind of day where just looking at the sky makes you smile and drift… I was even mired in hours of Sunday-to-home traffic from the shore, but it felt different, it felt OK and perhaps better, this is the type of day, the type of day that releases you from your daily lease, relief from the daily grind, your personal slate is wiped clean and you can just… be, in the moment, this moment, like experiencing a long slow deep breath from sunrise to sunset…
Is this because I took a couple of days off to commune with nature? sure, could be, I believe in re-charging your batteries, I should just learn to take my advice more often… there is this strange exhaustion you feel when you vacation right, you aren’t quite tired or quite refreshed, but are, in both respects, you feel like you can take on the world or not have a care in it, a false premise of course, but I’ll take it in these moments, again, one of those things I wish I could bottle, or prescribe to myself and the world to ingest on a daily basis, but I suppose if it was all that easy, everything would be that easy, so I say to you (and me, by extension, as this is my voice here) go find ‘it’, try to find that thing that at once flushes your system out from the daily weight, sheds the chains, let’s you take flight, find out that which both exhausts you and in the same action re-energizes you, for this life, that is where I am at tonight, my dog, she does not seem impressed… but I can bribe her with peanut butter, so her vote doesn’t count…


part of my Porch series (click if you want to read more! it’s been over a year now!!), and all likes, comments, and such… are all appreciated, I know you probably have better things to do than read this, thanks for taking the time…

and it all started with a simple rain drop…

and it all started with a simple rain drop…

red textile
Photo by Prashant Gautam on Pexels.com

for I am witness to cleopatra’s tear
to the mighty sword of genghis khan
raindrops
a map to the stars
the night provides
a canvas to the past
of lives that are now ours
and let the hours pass
and eons slide
from up upon plymouth rock
and armstrong’s stride
from the very emergence of humanity
come forth african savanna
a culmination
a cauldron
for we are all these
children of the mother
divine interpretation
the mark of the father

notes… sometimes I ponder if the air I am breathing is the same air breathed by someone else, so long ago, we all have shared this space, this earth, our only home, as far as we know, so a single raindrop hit my windshield the other day, and as I like to say…. the words wrote themselves…

Music ?  why not… The Bangles – Walk like an Egyptian

the sun will come out (or so I am told, I’m not convinced)

the sun will come out (or so I am told, I’m not convinced)

taxi on the road
Photo by Victor Miyata on Pexels.com

as much as I love rain, and thunderstorms (specifically), sometimes the wonder is shadowed over by angst or perhaps the persistence of the rain, driving in urban new jersey is perilous enough, throw in what looks like the contents of a washer on psycho spin cycle up against your windshield and even the staunchest optimist-acrat can become trodden down, last night was such one of these nights, no end to traffic in site, no accident on my side, not that I can see anyway, the whirring of flashing lights, ambulance, tow truck, fire truck, police, all speak to the seriousness of the wreck I can not even see, but in front is a winding river of endless angry red taillights, behind me a cauldron of various states of humanity, ranging from frustration, to anger, to the begrudging acceptance of fate, this night, a one hour drive stretches miles into two although the toll feels more like years shaved in-artfully off my soul, like a blunt object piercing my skull (think head butting a bowling ball, rinse, repeat), I should know better than succumb, but the seductive sirens sitting there on the concrete medians sing their song seducing, and lure me nearly into the rocks amidst this throng of mass humanity, somehow, by providence, sheer will, experience, and perhaps some blind luck I make it home without a scratch, aside from the aforementioned carved up and beaten about soul, I should know better, and have a firewall in place to brace for such equations, but sometimes 2+2 adds up to more than four, or my math skills have deteriorated past the point or no return, at least for now, I arrive in my driveway, did I mention I hate traffic?

clouds
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

so this brings me to this morning, nothing unusual there, the humidity is making my car sweat, or perhaps the rain when I slept, no matter, I pop my trunk and water runs out on my arm good enough to soak a sleeve, “ah, continuation” I think, and so it goes, on down the road, same lefts and rights and lights and cars, of course there is an accident by the on ramp, why wouldn’t there be? getting to work on time becomes more of a fantasy than concrete reality, just more salt in the old wound I suspect, and the trek, why would the turnpike be clear this morning, thursdays are for traffic they say, or they don’t, but I think it anyway, anything to keep my mind drifting into road rage, which is a misnomer, I clearly am not mad at the road, the road can not help the lack of planning that has it crowded so, besides the poor thing is out here all hours of night, in all weather, so who am I to gripe? against my fellow man, woman or whatever, perhaps then, I watch people in my mirrors jockey in the lanes like slow motion indy 500 drivers, somehow I think myself better than them as I stay put in my lane, a little pocket of joy pops when I pass them, and a sliver of grrrr when they pass me, just the same, what the hell am I doing contemplating such things? feeling the swirling, like flushing down a drain, the rain is still in the zip code but relenting, and then, as if I texted the sky gods, the sun decided to have a go, a little late, but better now than never, you know one of those times like it seems the sky has opened and the very light of heaven is streaming down ? yeah, something like that… literally as if I had reached up in my basement and pulled that old string attached to the too short chain attached to the rickety light bulb that is probably older than dirt itself (judging by the dust cloud puff), the blazing sunlight bathes my car from hood to rear like a curtain pulling back, and then quite suddenly I felt a sense of, I don’t know how best to describe it, joy ? uplifting… joy? joy-spiration? (sure, that works) I did not literally turn 180 degrees as that would be foolish (and illegal, not to mention dangerous) but my spirit certainly did, in an instant of just abundant joy, from a mere smattering of sunlight revealed, and people wait on street corners for drugs… I should corner the market I tell you (if I could bottle the stuff)… but anyway, the moral of the story, well, OK there is no moral per se, just a reminder, a little spark of joy might just be around the corner (or the next one), so when you get dressed in the morning, remember your underwear (important), lace up your shoes with some hope, attune your ears to receive positive radar pings, warm up your eyes to the idea of possibility, be open to the world… and you may, just may, find a little slice of heaven out there just waiting for your to discover… or even just some crumbs of happiness, I’ll take either or the latter…

close up of black bird
Photo by Tobias Bjørkli on Pexels.com

notes… so I will leave you with that, I have a rare weekend off and I am going to venture into the wilds of New Jersey… yes! there are wilds here, mostly coastal salt marshes and such, and sadly I have never been to every corner of my own damn state!  shame on me, so I aim to fix that record, I will be traveling near Smithville…. in between some more famous places but after driving by a few times over the years it is time I stopped by and stayed awhile, at least a couple of nights, a king suite with a jacuzzi doesn’t hurt, just sayin’…

if you like the free form and rambling rambling rambling style please visit my Collections & Series page, scroll down to the Essay section… and to all who read this far or this at all, I bow, and say thanks. I do this for me but share it for others to see…

all in the details…

all in the details…

photo of blue sky
Photo by Elia Clerici on Pexels.com

“unremarkable sky
guardian
your exquisiteness is my breath
a time capsule
from within I will pass all my own
the thin blue horizon which protects
this very breath
held tightly
against this earth
by means we understand
by eons we can not comprehend”

notessemi related to my last post, kind of a reminder that wonder is all around us (and I don’t just mean the bread), I wrote this in my head on the way to work in the car, which is annoying, I really get anxiety trying to recite lines back to myself and hope I remember them when I get to the office (if traffic is not murder I can not scribble things down at 75 mph you know), and I am just not good at dictating to my phone, it just.. I don’t know, the pen is my friend and is the one I take to the dance…

Suggested music: Humanmeshdance – Infinity

Thoughts from the porch…

Thoughts from the porch…

gray concrete castle
Photo by sl wong on Pexels.com

so much of what we are told is what we are told, I ponder about that castle up on the hill, that was my dream, once all seemingly within my reach, it was what I was supposed to be, the prince, the crown, the queen, then king, the life laid out before I knew anything of this life,  down the hill, from that great mount, but, upon rainbow’s end, it was not real, just an ideal of what I was supposed to want, to aspire to be, in the image planned, of those who raised this vessel and chose what might fill the same, the directions I might start out upon, which roads I should follow, and how the other choices were trails that led to nothingness from their experience or opinion, but for yet those before had never laid their own eyes beyond those walls either, and rather engender the dreams I might have gathered, pointed me in the direction of their own, not by malice, or ill intentions, of the hope of granting that castle dream to a future generation, dreams, as such, are best kept to those asleep, for it is better to sit under these stars than to pretend I belong among them, but, do not interpret this the wrong way, but for this is not despair or the death of dreams, this is forthright ground, dirt I can clasp in my hand and sprinkle out on the earth in front of me, this is not despair, to understand the common life, a human life, for there is plenty to wonder at there…

person sky silhouette night
Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

this is quite an unremarkable night, as most are, the sunset is not particularly grand, the clouds are just swabs of gray against a not even blue sky, but here I lie, here I am, breathing in such breath, creating words from the fruit of the universe filtered down through my hand, and this pen, I could despair, I could dwell on all the wrong, out there in the world, or know, and truly feel, alive, untouched, at the moment, by the great miseries, that stalk us down, but tonight, this night, that dark finger has not crossed me, not pointed me out, not tapped on my shoulder and gave me that nod, for this is my time, my dream, an unremarkable life perhaps in the scheme, of things, not a castle on a hill, not a cache of riches, not the adoration of faceless masses, just the sheer miracle and joy of this existence, even if this, is just for a minute, let this by my tale so others may know it… (part of my porch project)

musicOpeth “Cusp of Eternity”

thoughts, comments, war strategies, ways to fold your legs in interesting ways… are all appreciated, c’mon now people what are your thoughts on the matter?

snippets and little things (hey, it is the weekend)…

snippets and little things (hey, it is the weekend)…

person holding fountain pen
Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

I like to take things lighter on the weekend (hey it is summer, India Day coming here in Edison NJ and the Yankees are playing the Red Sox, summer indeed), time to relax and let the week… end, and start anew on Sunday, so here are some quick things I might not post otherwise, lest they hang on the vine and rot away in the shadows of my journals (these range in age from May until, well, now-ish)…

 


 

city lights daylight iron lamppost
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

cherry blossoms
greet you at spring’s door
in a twist
they are gone
may day
all fall down


birds in a yard
conducting business
or covert intentions
how am I to interpret
their intricacies


refrain
rejoice
even in the rain


on my lawn
upon my yard
robins do a two step
a young jack nimbles
and is quick
buttercups add a touch
of color
of bright yellow
candor


for cardinals are the bane of bulls
to small to gore
to red to ignore


we live upon the southern edge
at that precipice of storm
for we look beyond our shores


music…. ah just listen to this…

All your thoughts, comments, likes, hates, opinions, critiques, and eyes on any of my writing are with thanks… so, thanks.  feel free to comment, lament, foment, ferment and any other lent you can think of, the floor is yours… because I prefer the bed….

inspiration in a song, no idea why…

inspiration in a song, no idea why…

the song: “At Last” Frances Langford 1942… it made me write this… but I must admit, the song itself is magic, I am merely riding the tails…

“as we reach for the sun
we burn our tongues
as we can not know the words
to the song
take me to… take me to…
where the night has begun
west of the moon
and east of the sun”

copyright… me… just because of the pause and the simplicity of it all, at the end of the day…  if I could post in black and white perhaps I would, perhaps I should, for at least these occasions…

lost. love. letters.

lost. love. letters.

back to my regularly scheduled programming… Thursdays are for the lachrymose, those moments when I reflect on her…

brown wooden dock over body of water
Photo by Vincent Albos on Pexels.com

“a slow pour,
in a bar in paradise
islamorada, florida
sitting on a stool
of course, by myself
top shelf
surprised they have basil’s,
a slow pour
some would describe this
exquisite
a perfect sunset
light slides along the gulf
like all those postcards
I suppose I could just buy a bottle
and some pills
and end this right now
as there is something missing
in the midst of all this glory,
a slow pour –
the rattle of melting cubes
the sharp sting of bourbon
punctures my tongue
the view, massages like a familiar tune
the hum of gentle conversation I am not involved in,
a. slow. pour. …
the deck overlooks
overlaps the water
lapping the pylons
sips count the minutes
here
in locked distant beauty
in a bar, in paradise
on the water
I contemplate life –
without you”

notes… this is totally a mental picture for me, and my link to Islamorada above shows… even in the midst of what most would consider paradise…. I remain, on those warm nights, ocean breeze, wishing you were there next to me, I still have hope, down there, somewhere, for new love or the kindling of old (for her, I love you)…

and in the interest of being honest, I was disappointed that my last post got no love… maybe the way I tagged it ?  not sure.. but either way I stand by it with pride….

the afterlife, after life, or life after… (a pondering, a vision)…

the afterlife, after life, or life after… (a pondering, a vision)…

view of dark hallway
Photo by Aidan Roof on Pexels.com

…perhaps the problem is in the name itself, the name is a supposition, meaning that we are calling this life, and then ‘something‘ after, maybe the real answer is that this is just a phase of overall life not the end all be all .
for most of this phase of life, I must admit I have been focused on the possibility that there is nothingness after conventional death, that my life has zero significance and it will be as if I never existed forever after this – gone… – forever…, at times this has given me what feels like a panic attack, my breathing shortens, my chest seizes, a get a bit dizzy, it feels real and paralyzing, to combat this over the years I have tried to rationalize the options, I’ve looked at a myriad of religions, none fit (for me, if they work for you, I have no problem with that and am happy for you, genuinely), there was a time I settled on just knowing a few things:


 

-I do/have actually existed
-all humans great or garbage have gone down the same path
-matter is not created or destroyed so regardless some part of me goes on, in some form
-we know very little of the universe as smart as we think we are, so there is volumes of knowledge out there to explore

 

assorted color led lights
Photo by Toni Cuenca on Pexels.com

Sometimes this has been enough, sometimes not, because even if I, my atoms, my molecules, my materials become something else (or more perhaps… or less more likely), even if I become something else my consciousness, the ‘me’ is gone, and that is what rattles me to the core, it always has, and I don’t understand how most people are not the same, afraid of this dire outcome, this inevitable end, for all time, perhaps it is better that way.

 

focus photography of sun
Photo by Ali Arapoğlu on Pexels.com

So that brings me to tonight, and the term ‘afterlife’, and it made me realize that yes, vast nothingness is a possible outcome, but so is a phase of life we just do not understand, call it a vision if you like, I call it a picture in a dream I had, I imagined that upon my death, my body opened up like an egg, and a form of myself burst forth like a blue phoenix (I can not explain the particulars, I am just reporting them), a blue phoenix with a long tail like cosmic dust, as if you grabbed a nebula and pulled the cosmic cloud around back and forth, and the phoenix raced forth to explore the universe, no longer what we consider human, a higher form, I felt that is what we are meant to do, to discover the universe, in all the corners, in a different dimension, soaring among the stars, it felt calming and reassuring as if it came from some other source than my brain, is that likely? my logical self says no, but my logical self also can say that I do not have the knowledge to really make the call, there are many things we don’t understand in this life, we don’t remember being in the womb, but certainly were there for almost a year residency, then we had this phase of life which we are living in now, perhaps the next phase is the same way, this may be just another gestation period, different than the previous but no less real, and then the next birth happens, or evolution of our being, into something else, would we look back to the previous phase and look to talk to it ? perhaps, perhaps not, based on looking at this experience of life.

analysis blackboard board bubble
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Is this an answer? no. Just something that occurred to me tonight, something floating through my mind (as it is always working on the puzzle of this life). My fate will be the same either way, but sometimes there is an outcome we may not have considered… and I surely will still ponder on the subject, well, until the answer is quite apparent, and I am quite gone, either moving on or moving never lost to forever. I prefer to hope for the next phase of life, not afterlife, the next-life, the next phase…

Music to ponder the universe and all existence…

Carbon Based Lifeforms – Derelicts

As usual, all feedback is appreciated…. this one is a little out there, but, so are we, floating on this little blue marble at the edge of a galaxy among countless, beyond countless others…